To Prove Myself
by Diamond-Wind
Summary: Frida messed up terribly in her last competion. Now she is unsure of herself. When she is invited to a competion with two other competiters she knows, will she go?
1. Default Chapter

The whole appartement was trashed. Cups, plates, beer bottles, food, cigarette buds, and napkins littered the floors. In the bathroom, there were beer bottles, and puke on the floor, and on the toliet.  
  
A seventeen-year-old girl glanced at her kitchen clock on the wall.  
  
'3 a.m! Already, damn,' she thought to herself, and she went into the kitchen to get some rubber gloves, and a plastic bag. But when she got into the kitchen she saw that someone was asleep on the floor. She went over to them, and kicked them in the side. "Go home, bum," she said opening a cabinet beneath the sink, and pulling out a plastic bag.  
  
"I'm trashed," he said sitting up. He rested against the wall, and with one eye being halfway open he watched as she went into a counter draw, and pulled out a pair of yellow latex rubber gloves.  
  
She went back over to him, and kicked his leg lightly. "Go be trashed somewhere else," she said still kicking him.  
  
"Stop kicking me," he said letting his head sink low.  
  
Getting fustrated she gave up, and told him to go sleep on the couch.  
  
"Thank you Frida," he said standing up. He staggered into her livingroom, and knocked-out on the couch.  
  
She rolled her eyes, and began to clean the kitchen.  
  


* * *

  
Around 5 a.m she finished cleaning, and took a quick shower. After her shower she quickly got dressed, and went to the livingroom. Before she went to bed she wanted to make sure he was alright.  
  
In the livingroom the guy was asleep on couch; feet hanging off, and his right arm was above his head hanging off the rest.  
  
"Comfortable," she said, going over to a shelf in the far end of the room. She picked up a blanket, and covered him up with it. Then she went to her bed for some needed sleep.  
  
*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*  
  
The sound of a alarm clock was going off. The owner of the clock wasn't waking up. Frida, after sometime finally smacked the snooze button on the alarm clock. She sat up, and rubbed her eyes.  
  
"Noon already," she said, and got out of bed. She got dressed, and went into the livingroom.  
  
She took a seat on the couch. "I gotta be downtown in half an hour," she moaned falling backwards on the couch.  
  
*Crunch*  
  
She fell on a piece of paper. She quickly grabbed it from underneath herself, and read it:  
  
How long do you sleep? I was up round' eight. Remember be at the plaza at 12:30.  
-Heat  
  
She crumpled up the paper, and with a lucky shot, shot it into the garbage can without even looking.  
  
She closed her eyes, and streched her arms above her head.  
  
Suddenly the phone rang.  
  
"Nobodies home," she said to the phone, but reluctently got up, and answered it.  
  
"Hello," she greeted.  
  
"I need bail," the guy on the other end said.  
  
"How much," she questioned.  
  
"six-hundred," he answered.  
  
"Fine," she said rolling her eyes. "I'll there when at visiting hours," she said then hung up.  
  
The guy on the other end was Strike, and you guessed it, he was in jail again. It was probably for uptaining a firearm, or disturbing the peace.  
  
"Well better get going," she said leaving for the plaza.  
  
A/N: I know, I know no dancing....yet. Its getting there. I know there aren't alot of Bust-A-Groove stories out there *watches tumbleweed float by*, so I decided to make one. Hope people still check here for stories. *looks at bear autitorum* Maybe I'll attract a crowd. 


	2. Chapter 2

Frida walked down the streets of downtown. It wasn't the best place to be: there were thugs out selling drugs, bums sitting in street alleys just waiting for you to walk by, and steal your money; or atleast follow you around begging for it.  
There was grafitti on building playgrounds, and trucks parked in lots for a long time period.  
  
But the good thing about downtown was all the places you could go shopping at. There were stores for just about everything, and many restaurants to eat at.  
  
She walked until she came upon the Plaza, and saw Heat leaning against a window to one of the stores.  
  
"Didn't think you would ever wake up," was the first thing that he said.  
  
"Shut up," she said leaning again the window he was leaning on. She reached into her pocket, and pulled out a piece of folded paper. She unfolded it, and began to read it:  
  
Go to the Plaza downtown. Go to building 123. I'll be waiting for you. You've been chosen again.  
  
"Is this building 123," she questioned him.  
  
"Yes, now lets go inside," he said, and they both walked inside.  
  
Inside was like an office building. It had a front desk with a securetary at it, on the phone.  
  
"Excuse me, Ms.," Frida interupted.  
  
"Hold on," said the securtary, as she put her hand to the phone. "May I help you Miss," she questioned.  
  
"I'm here to see Mr. Montrel."  
  
"Oh, ok go up the elevator to floor five, and its the first door you see," she imformed returning to her phone call.  
  
"Thank You," she thanked, and they both walked over to the elevator, and went inside.  
  
Inside Elevator:  
  
"I hope its another dance competition," Heat said excitedly.  
  
"Heh, heh," she looked down at the ground. 'I hope not,' she thought to herself.  
  
~Flashback~  
  
It was Frida against Kelly, and the competition was quite tied. Suddenly Frida went to do a handstand, and fell right over, and off the stage causing roars of laughter from quite alot of the audience.  
  
She left the competition right before it was finished.  
  
~End Flashback~  
  
"Frida...Frida...FRIDA," Heat yelled.  
  
"What," she said leaving the memory.  
  
"Can you get out of the elevator. It stopped two minutes ago," he said, and waiting for her to exit.  
  
"Sorry," she said sheepishly, and stepped out of the elevator.  
  
Walking a few steps Heat did a backflip.  
  
"We are in a public building, show some respect," she said like a mother would scold a child, placing her hands on her hips.  
  
Frida knocked on the door.  
  
"Come in," a strong voice said from the other side.  
  
Frida opened the door, and both walked in.  
  
"Have a seat you two," he commanded pointing to two seat next to his desk.  
  
They both took a seat.  
  
"We have to wait for one more person," Mr. Montrel said.  
  
"Who," Heat asked rudely.  
  
"What he means is," Frida said glaring at Heat, "we're not trying to be noisy, but who might you be waiting for."  
  
Heat flashed her an innocent smile.  
  
"His name is Strike. His last competition was great."  
  
"Alright," Heat jumped up, "Another competition."  
  
"Strike will not be here right now," Frida imformed,"but I can give him a message for you."  
  
"As you may have known, I called you here because there is a competition I want, erm, you three to participate in. Its called Dance Off, and its in two months. I saw you guys in Bust-A-Groove, and thought you three would be perfect. The only way you could enter this contest is if you were invited, so I invited you three."  
  
"Tonight in Manhatten, New York there is a competition of some of the greatest dancer, and I would like you three to observe. I have three V.I.P seats. Some of the dancers in the show are going to be in Dance Off, so watch closely." He handed them the tickets, and a paper with direction. "Have fun."  
  
They got up, and left.  
  
~!@~!@~  
  
"I can't wait to be in another real dance competition," Heat exclaimed excitedly as they walked down the street.  
  
"I don't think I want to go," she said disapointingly.  
  
They took a seat at the bus stop.  
  
"Where you going Frida," he questioned.  
  
"Jail. Mr. High and Mighty needs me to bail him out again."  
  
The bus came, and she got on, and Heat went his own way down the street.  
  
!@!@!!@!!@!@!!@!@!!@  
  
When Frida went to the city jail, she always felt self-concious. There were always fat guys, with huge tatoos whistling, and harassing her. So she always walked quickly to the imformation desk.  
  
The officer at the desk was named Felix Grifper. Frida knew him, and he knew her becuase everytime Strike needed bail Frida would do it. And the officer was always the same.  
  
"Here to bail that bum out again," the officer questioned.  
  
She nodded.  
  
"I don't understand why you would want to waist your money on him. He'll end up back in here anyways."  
  
~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~  
  
After everything was paided for he lead her to his cell. In the cell he was asleep sitting against the wall.  
  
The officer kicked the cell a few times.  
  
Strike stered a little, and stretched, yawning really loudly.  
  
"Get up bum, your leaving," he said unlocking the door.  
  
He stood up, and walked out, and the guard led them to the entrance. They left the building.  
  
"Your in a dance competition in two months," she told him.  
  
"We were supose ta' see that guy toda."  
  
"Tonight Heat, Strike, and I are going to watch this dance competition tonight. We have V.I.P seat." She took a seat again at the bus stop, and he stood behind the bench.  
  
"I have nothing better to do, tonight, anyways. Well I'm going home now," he began to walk away. "What time is it tonight," he questioned.  
  
"We should be at the trainstation by 6; it starts at 10."  
  
He nodded. He pointed his hand like a gun, and fired.  
  
"Don't bring a gun, tonight," she yelled after him.  
  
A/N Well I'm gonna post my chapter still...even if nobody will probably read it. Hopely someone will come by, and check. ~Wink.~ 


	3. Chapter 3

"Don't bring a gun, tonight," she yelled after him.  
"Yes mom," he yelled already halfway down the street.  
  
~5:40p.m Westport Train Station~  
  
Frida sat down on one of the benched outside on the station platform, and began to sketch on her sketch pad of people who were waiting for the train. She drew a picture of two kids playing 'Miss Mary Mac,' and a couple siting tightly together trying to keep warm. She figured the kids belonged to the couple.  
She finished the drawing, and closed her sketchpad. She put it back into her backpack.  
Suddenly she felt a huge shadow cast over her. She looked up, and saw a gang of guys, and their leader was Strike. He sat down next to Frida.  
  
All the guys looked at Frida.  
  
She became unconforable by there stares.  
  
"Shes not a piece of meat, so stop staring at her, as if your dogs," he yelled.  
  
Luckily they backed off,and left.  
  
"Uhh, thank you," she said finding the ground suddenly interesting.  
  
He nodded his head.  
  
By not alot of people were crowding into the trainstation. Heat arrived with them. He walked over to the two dancers. "Hey," he greeted.  
  
"Heat your late," Frida said.  
  
Strike didn't say nothing, he just looked down the track, and waiting for the train to be coming down the track.  
  
"Sorry, Mom," he said sarcastically. He stood behind the bench.  
  
Around 6:10 the train came, and the the crowds began to accend into the train.  
  
Strike, being rude pushed through the crowd, and onto the train. Alot of people let him pass by them because people were afraid of him.  
  
Frida, and Heat managed to get in a few minutes later. As they walked down the many boxcars they couldn't find any seats. They came to the car where Strike was sitting down. He was sitting nex to a guy who had fallen asleep. Luckily, the guy was against the window, and his drool was falling to the floor.  
  
Strike looked up at the two of them. "No seats," he questioned with a smirk on his face.  
  
"No,"Frida said, and grabbed the top bar to keep balance as the train took a fast turn.  
  
Strike patted his leg,"Sit on my lap Frida," he said.  
  
She didn't argue with him. She took a seat in his lap. She didn't like to stand because whenever the train took a quick turn people standing always flew forward, and fall into the isles.  
  
On the other hand Heat gave him a dirty look. Strike smirked.  
  
During the ride Frida became tired, and fell asleep against Strike.  
  
"You better not try anything to her, or you'll find your ass in jail again," in a loud whisper Heat growled.  
  
Strike smirked, and wrapped his arms around Frida.  
  
Heat gritted his teeth, and looked out the window at the speeding scenery flying by. Heat didn't want to fight on the train because: 1: there were to many civilians, 2: he wasn't sure if he had a gun, 3: they would get thrown out of the train. So he chose to ignore him.  
  
~1 hour later~  
  
One hour later they arrived at Grand Central station.  
  
Strike nudged Frida.  
  
"I lost, so leave me alone," she yelled in her sleep. She snapped awake a few seconds later. She looked at Strike.  
  
"We're here," he said.  
  
"Oh," she said looking at her situation. Embaressed, she stood up quickly, and left the train. Heat followed after, then Strike.  
  
"Where are we going Frida," Strike questioned.  
  
"38th street, to a club called Craz Zone," she informed. She looked around, "Its right there," she said pointing to a huge building.  
  
"I've been here before," Heat said thinking back. Frida looked at him. "When I won my first race."  
  
She could tell the memory hurt him, so she didn't urge him to continue. "I love the city," she decided to change the subject. "Its always so lighten up, and packed full of people."  
  
"You eat dinner today," Strike questioned.  
  
She nodded her head no.  
  
"Lets eat, since we still got alot of time on hand," he said beginning to walk off.  
  
"Come on Heat," she said grabbing his hand, pulling him down the street.  
  
A/N: There in the city, next chapter The Show!!!!!!!! Stay Tuned!!!!! I know, I know cheesy =D 


	4. Chapter 4

"Come on Heat," she said grabbing his hand, pulling him down the street.  
  
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
They decided to eat at a Mexican restaurant, but the bad thing was that they could hardly speak in English, so Strike had to translate since his background was spanish.  
  
They took a seat at a table.  
  
A waitor came over to the table. "Buonas noches," she greeted. (good evening)  
  
Strike nodded.  
  
"Qué puede yo conseguirle," she questioned. (what can I get you)  
  
Strike looked to Frida. "What do you want."  
  
"Chicken salad," she answered.  
  
Strike looked over to the waitor, "Ensalada de pollo, y un taco," he told her. (chicken salad and a taco.  
  
"Sí sir," she said bowing. She turned to Heat, "Y usted sir," she questioned.  
  
"Excuse me miss," he questioned raising an eyebrow.  
  
"She said what do you want," he said aggravated at Heat. Heat answered,"Just some white rice."  
  
"El perdedor desea un poco de arroz blanco," Strike said with a laugh. (The loser wants some white rice)  
  
"Usted no debe decir eso sobre sus amigos," she said walking off. (You should not have said that about your friends)  
  
Heat looked around the restaurant. It was full of alot of people. Everyone seemed to speak spanish.  
  
Suddenly a girl came over to their table. "Mi amigo piensa su lindo," she said in a quiet voice.  
  
Heat looked to Strike.  
  
"She said her friend thinks your cute," he said as if Heat was a slow person.  
  
"Gracias," he said smiling. "Whos your friend," he questioned.  
  
"El desea saber whos su amigo," Strike said to the girl. "You need to learn spanish, seriously," he said to Heat.  
  
"Ella," she said pointing to a girl a few tables down.  
  
Heat looked, and waved to the girl. The girl appeared to be his age...probably just shy.  
  
The girl left their table, and there meals came. They began to eat.  
  
Frida finished quickly, and took out her sketchpad, and began to sketch. She decided to draw Strike, and Heat eatting.  
  
"Let me see your sketchpad," Strike commanded.  
  
She nodded, and passed him her book.  
  
He began to scan through the book. There were many sketches: alot were scenery, people dancing, people doing normal things, and a certain one of herself.  
  
Strike looked at Frida. "Why would she draw herself on the night she fell," he thought to himself. He looked at her, and saw that she had a small strand of her hair, and was beginning to braid it.  
  
He turned the page and saw Heat, and him eating.  
  
"I should call you a stalker," he said to Frida.  
  
She looked at him, and chuckled.  
  
He closed the sketchpad, and handed it back to her. She put it back into her backpack.  
  
"Señoras y caballeros," a guy said with a microphone getting everyones attention. He was standing on a mini stage. "La hospitalidad de Tonights estará por un commedian. Ponga sus manos juntas para Rough Draft," he said handing a guy with big black sunglasses the microphone.  
  
"What he say," Frida questioned Strike as she sat more close to him.  
  
"He said that tonights entertainment will be a comedian named Rough Draft," he told her, and Heat.  
  
They watched the show with Strike translating. It was quite funny. After a while they left to go to the club. They arrived at the club seven- minutes later.  
  
The club was packed full of people dancing. To light up the rooms they had glow stick lights all around, and people waved them in the air while dancing.  
  
But before they could get into the club they had to pass security. Simply Frida flashed them the tickets, and they were allowed in. Well.....not exactly. They didn't at first let Strike in; they though he might try, and kill someone. After must reasoning by Frida they allowed him in.  
  
Inside they seated, as man came upon a big stage. Most of the people gathered around the stage, and alot seated themselves in small tables.  
  
There were some many people in the club.  
  
"Ladies and gentleman we have a wonderful show for you tonight. Tonights competition will be for a 10,000 dollar prize." The crowd arupted with cheer. "Put your hands together for our first two dancers," he said clapping his hands, and walking off stage, as two dancers came out. They were two boys about the same age.  
  
They began to dance. They were quite matched. But in the end one had to win, and the taller of the two won.  
  
Next there were two girls. They were off to a good start until suddenly one of the girls went to do the windmill, and fell infront of everyone.  
  
The whole crowd fell into bits of laughter, and the girl got up again, tried to began again but kept messing up. Before her round was over she ran off stage.  
  
Frida observed the dancers, and thought to herself, 'Thats me alright, the one that fails.' She looked down at the table.  
  
"O..kay that was an akward one, folks," the announcer guy said coming back on stage. "In just a few moments we will have more competitions," he said wallking off the stage getting an applause. 


	5. Chapter 5

I haven't updated this in a loooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnngggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg time!

Disclaimer: Don't own! I want to own Strike

Frida felt bitter for the rest of the night with the nagging memory of her competition. When it came to freestyle dance with everyone pumped up and having fun with the strob and glitter and glam she did not dance. She was upset and wanted to go home early but they wanted to stay.

Heat wanted to the most. He went up on stage and performed which caused the attention of many. They enjoyed his little act until a challenge endored with two breakers who looked like twin brothers. He jumped off because he enjoyed watching a challenge that took place to see if he could out dance them.

He knew he could. Unlike Frida he had total confidence in himself. He only wished that Frida did.

They left around one in the morning. Strike was high; very high. He could not walk a straight a line and laughed while talking in spanish. Frida and Heat were so lost because they didn't understand what he was saying.

On the train back Heat threw him down into an empty three-seated row and sat across from Frida.

"Why don't you just leave him here. If he wants to get high and disorientated then let him find his own f'n way home," Heat sad frustated at Frida. She was always worrying about him and if he made home ok, and bailing him out of jail when all did was get high, drunk and cause mayham.

She was looking out the window and turned to him.

"You know he is the only one who looks out for me," she said, "I wouldn't be living where I live if he hadn't looked out for me."

"He probably killed someone for it," he said low but made sure she heard it.

She ignored him for the rest of the ride because she was mad at him. Or was it that she was mad at her self? She took all her fustration out on people instead of on herself. It wasn't their fault so she shouldn't act like it was theres.

Looking at Heat she saw that he was looking out the window and that he was either thinking or he was bored. He was proabbly mad at her because she wasn't taking his side.


End file.
